I was climbing to the moon the other night when my ladder ran out of rungs…
so I had to wait until the moon came to me
Then I attached a string to it and slowly let the line out and watched the moon rise lazily into the night sky…while I read from my personal book of the dead.
I try to let go of those who passed before me
sadly, but stoically
releasing their memories like the moon
when my mood is murky like this I search the night skies like a bat
I want to frame the moon and it’s mysteries for future reference
and borrow it’s eerie glow to light my way in the darkest nights that I know must surely lie ahead
But I dare not
the moon doesn’t belong to me with my short earthly span
for eons untold it’s ruled the night sky above this place that we pollute with the impunity of stupidity
Still - I look for the Moon over Mckinleyville when I know it’s due
We’re old friends you know and there’s still a lot to talk about
2 comments:
Those are cool images!
These pictures are magical! And the essay is wonderfully evocative. Nice work, Dave!
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